


Not Like That... Right?

by Yeahyouwish



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Guilt, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeahyouwish/pseuds/Yeahyouwish
Summary: Prompt from Gay Demon:Some DipFord kinda inspired by a prompt I saw on tumblr: Before finding out who the author is, Dipper fantasizes about having sex with the genius behind the journals and sometimes writes them down. When Ford returns and Dipper forgets what he wrote and returns the journal, Ford reads these fantasies and offers to act them out with Dipper.I’ve added a taste of previous Stancest and a little more than a taste of previous Billford into this, just because we’re all going to hell anyway, am I right? Speaking of, heed the choose not to warn! Tagging this was difficult.
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines, Dipper Pines/Ford Pines, Ford Pines/Stan Pines
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	Not Like That... Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Do not repost or copy any part of this fanfiction to other sites.

Standford Pines sat down on the now dilapidated orange couch in the room where he once did most of his journalling and immediately raised a cloud of dust. He coughed and tried waving it away, then, placing the third journal on the table next to him, he sighed. He removed his glasses to pinch the ridge of his nose, where a pressure headache was forming yet again. Probably a by-product of the argument he’d had with Stanley. 

Ford looked down at the floor. 

Where was Experiment 78? Stanley Pinesssss.

You’d think that if his brother was working so hard to get him back, he’d keep everything the same as much as possible. Well… at least the mortgage was paid off, according to Stan. Ford guessed Stanley could work hard if he wanted to. 

Ford put his glasses back on to open the journal and, while flipping through it, he alighted on some handwriting that belonged neither to he nor Bill, and was certainly not in code. What the hell was a “leaf blower?” Ugh. Those damn kids had been writing in the journal? 

He flipped a few pages. Yes. Clearly Dipper had scribbled in here some, and Mabel, too! Fold it into a hat? What did that mean? Ford reached into the journal and removed the map he had taped there so many years ago. Following the creases that Mabel had made, he folded it into a hat and set it on the table in front of him. 

Holy-

It worked! 

Ford went back to the first page. Oh…. a leaf blower. As in the machine that blasted leaves off of a garden, surely? Interesting. Such a novel idea. He continued flipping through, chuckling just slightly (and for the first time in a long time) about Dipper’s quip about getting the local rich girl to apologize to a category ten ghost. A category ten?! Amazing. Ford wanted to hear this story. Perhaps Dipper had detailed more of his adventures in the back of the journal? 

It couldn’t be true. Because HE was in it. So far “the author of the journals” had come into Dipper’s room and explained that he was interested in training Dipper. A fantasy? Still interesting, but not at all what Ford was looking for. He flipped a few pages, scanning the text for “ghost” or “category,” but to no avail. 

He turned back to the beginning, disappointed. Well… maybe Dipper could shed some light on the fantasy at least. Did he want to work with Ford? The text read: 

Sitting on my bed, the Author puts a hand on my shoulder. “What do you say, Dipper?” He says. 

I’m dumbstruck at first. But then, why not? Haven’t I done well battling monsters and discovering his secrets? Why, I even found out who the Author WAS. Of course he would want to take me as an apprentice. “Of course.” I say confidently. “I’d love to be your apprentice!” 

“I was hoping you’d say that, Dipper.” With that, the Author leans forward and gives me the barest kiss on the forehead. I blush deeply, but wave it away without much more.

Here Ford paused. Surely… surely this must be a strange thing for a young boy such as Dipper to write? A kiss on the head was hardly a standard greeting between an apprentice and a master. Then again… Ford hadn’t been in this dimension, or among other humans, for a while. Things might have changed or… 

With a sudden flip of the stomach Ford thought-

/Or I might have come out a completely different portal and met a completely different Stan/

But Ford was too tired to think of that possibility right now. He bent over the journal and kept reading.

“And I was hoping for much more than this.” I say back sweetly. The Author smiles at me. 

“Should I tell you then that you are the most intelligent young man I’ve ever met?” 

“More than that.” I goad on boldly. 

“That I think you’ll far surpass me in time?” 

“Well…” I say modestly, “I wouldn’t say that.” But I can feel that the Author has slowly dropped his hand from my shoulder as he continues on. Does he want this as much as I do? 

/Want what?/ Ford wondered. 

“Should I say that you are handsome? Charismatic?” 

“You’re getting there.” I tease him. 

Suddenly the Author’s lips are on mine-

Wait, WHAT? 

Ford nearly dropped the journal in his shock, turning several pages back by accident. He had to flip back to see if he was reading this correctly.

Suddenly the Author’s lips are on mine as if he can’t stand to wait any longer, sending sparks of pleasure down my whole body as his hands caress my back. 

Ford looked up and thought … \This kid is twelve. Literally twelve…. / Then, as if he had to admit it to himself, /Well, the writing is good. For a twelve year old.\ He looked back down. He knew he really shouldn’t continue… but his cock was already responding and when was the last time he had access to things like this? He couldn’t even remember. It probably wouldn’t get much steamier than this anyway, right? Dipper was just a kid. He’d have no real idea how these sorts of things work. Obviously.

Ford stood swiftly to lock the door and then returned to the couch, undoing his pants as he sat down. Just for a little while… just to get off for god’s sake- for once, just to get off! He’d had so precious little time to pay attention to his body…. 

I moan and he leans in further. I wrap my hands around his body and soon enough he’s pushing me down on the bed. His weight is heavy against my smaller frame as he straddles me-

/How arousing…/ Ford thinks. 

grinding into me like he can’t get enough contact through my pants. 

Ford moaned as he pumped his cock with one hand, gripping the journal in the other. 

My cock is hard. 

/I heard you, kid!/

My body trembles like a frozen wind has caressed me, but it’s heat I feel. Absolute heat. 

/Fuck!/

I can’t believe he’s doing this, but it’s a great feeling, want. Yes. Want. And I want it too. 

Ford came without much effort, and he dropped the journal to stuff three knuckles in his mouth. Even when he was young, he’d always been loud. Stan used to have to smother him with a pillow when they played around. Ford laid back and just cared for himself for a while. A safe environment with a couch… it had been a while since he could just enjoy the sated, relaxed feeling… play with his cock gently… caress the sticky mess he’d created and maybe even… yes… he wanted a taste this time. Ford licked his fingers, moaning rudely and, he knew, too loudly. But this was so good… so good. Before he knew it, he was asleep. 

___

Ford woke up with a start the next day. He was shivering, and the latest dimension, Bill’s cold, high-pitched laugh, held him fast in his own mind for a few seconds before he realized… oh. He was home. Safe. He relaxed. Why was he so cold? Oh, right… 

He hadn’t covered up, and his cock was laying half-hard out in the cool air of the room. Stanley was clearly blasting the air on this hot summer’s day. Ford almost tucked himself in, but he was sticky and hard and he wondered if… yes. He should beat off first. Just a little pleasure. He’d had so little time for it, and whenever he’d found the time, Bill would invade his mind, violating his privacy. But no more. He was home and there was a plate in his head keeping Bill out now. And well… Bill wasn’t going to invade this very minute, right? 

Okay. He spit on his hands and took his cock up. Wow… what an explosive ejaculation he’d had the night before. What had he been-? Oh, yes. Ford picked up the journal with his free hand. Well… there WAS pretty good porn right here in front of him. Maybe he could just… he’d already done it once. 

Ford struggled a bit to open to the right page with just one hand. Then he picked out his place and continued. 

I reach up, confident to undo his shirt, and the Author chuckles. “You know just what I want, don’t you, Dipper?” He asks. “Clever boy…” 

/That would get me off, too./ Ford has to admit. The amount of praise this… “Author” is giving Dipper has to be setting him absolutely on fire! /It always made me crazy to hear Bill call me things like…/ But thinking of Bill in that way hurt, so he pushed him from his mind. 

“Clever enough to know this was a long time coming.” I flirt back, and the Author blushes, pleased with my observation. “Now… I think you should… pop a few buttons.” 

/Oh, I see who’s in control./ Ford thought with a chuckle. Dipper had clearly given his character a lot more… confidence. Yes. And he was going to set this scene, not ‘the Author.’ Ford was beginning to like this, possibly a bit too much. 

The Author obeys this suggestion and runs one hand down my chest. This makes me gasp, but I retaliate immediately by dragging a finger down his stomach until I reach his bulge. He draws in breath through his teeth and grinds against me, hoping for more delicious friction. 

Then he puts one thumb on my nipple and twirls, a tantalizing promise to me. I can feel how hard he’s getting and I slip one hand into his pants just for the satisfaction of seeing him squirm for me. 

“Oh Dipper…” He moans. “I’ve never met anyone like you.. someone perfect to continue my research… someone so intelligent… so… organized…” But his words are falling apart as I expertly rub my hand over his dripping cock-

And that is where Ford came, unable to contain himself any longer. God, was he so sensitive now that a twelve year old’s… fictional crush- could make him cum so hard? 

He dropped the journal again, relaxing completely into the rush of chemicals. Yes… oh, that felt so good. Ford rested for a whole five minutes, just letting himself ride through that orgasm. Then he checked his watch. He really should get up. He went to the shower and stood under the water for a good thirty minutes. 

This was… this was… wonderful. It had been so long. A shower… time to fondle himself… he found himself doing it now, even, but gently. His hands were just tickling his cock. No intent to climax, just touching. Just feeling good under the hot spray. 

With a jolt he realized that he had been fantasising- and not just about anything! About Dipper and “the Author!” He pushed that from his mind and stopped touching himself at once. Sure, he hadn’t been in this dimension for a while, but he knew some things that were weird almost anywhere. And this was definitely one of them. 

Twelve! And his own great-nephew! His twelve year old great nephew! There were so many words in that thought that clashed with his sense of what was acceptable behaviour that he scolded himself for his fantasy before turning off the water and stepping out. 

He wasn’t exactly flaccid, but he was going to get to work now and stop focusing so much on that kid. As he changed, he tucked the third journal into his inner pocket. Then he went down to the kitchen to get something to eat for once before working. And…. Dipper was there. 

The size of his eyes when he saw Ford standing in the kitchen was something to behold. Then, he said, very, very nervously, “Gr-Great Uncle Ford! Um… hey. Uh…” 

Ford almost chuckled because… well… gone as the boy in the journal, with his confident fingers and quick tongue. But Ford spared himself some explanation and Dipper some embarrassment by simply focusing on his intellect and controlling his emotions. 

“Good morning.” Ford said instead, but he ended up blushing in any case when, unbidden, the memory of everything Dipper had written about that oh-so-confident boy came flooding back. He opened the fridge to hide his flush. Clearly intellect could only control so much when something like this sprung up.

“Uh- yeah! Good! Good morning!” Dipper stammered as Ford got the milk out. Wow, this kid was nervous. Ford started rummaging through all the cabinets for sustenance. “Hey Grunkle Ford… um… did you… do you have… the- the-” Oh no. Oh NO. Ford tried not to freeze in his tracks. 

Oh, of course Dipper had noticed. 

Ford found some cereal and poured it into the bowl, concentrating all his willpower on continuing on like normal until Dipper got the sentence out. He could save himself a lot of guilt and Dipper a lot of trouble and humiliation by simply giving him the journal so Dipper could rip out those pages. He busied himself trying to find a spoon. 

“The?” Ford prompted calmly, taking a spoon out of the same drawer that he used to keep them in. 

“The journal?” Dipper whispered. 

“Which one?” Ford asked. 

“The… the third one.” Dipper finished lamely. Ford reached into his pocket, and to Dipper’s intense surprise, placed it on the table so Dipper could take it. Then he poured milk into his bowl, pretending not to notice or care about the possessive way that Dipper took ahold of what was certainly Ford’s journal. Then Dipper paused, though. “Can I- uh… borrow it?” 

“For a few moments. I need to bring it down to the lab.” 

“Of course!” Dipper said, and he ran from the room, leaving his pancakes on the table. No loss there… they were soaked through with syrup and Dipper had obviously been waiting for Ford to come to the kitchen for quite some time. The poor kid could probably hardly eat anything in front of him; busy having mortifying thoughts about if Ford found out what he’d written, he suspected. 

Ford waited in silence for a minute, crunching the delicious cereal in his bowl and thinking about if jelly beans were still around. Surely they were? He’d have to get some. Then Dipper came back, blushing like mad, and held the journal out to him, never looking Ford in the eyes. 

Ford took it and felt Dipper shiver at the brush of their hands, but as soon as Ford had hold of it, Dipper snatched his hand back like Ford would bite it. Hm, well… Dipper clearly thought his former crush on “the Author” was strange now and was kind of disgusted by the whole thing. For the best, of course. Ford should try and put it out of his mind, too. Find some real pornography, probably, as well. 

They said nothing as Dipper took the chair opposite. Bold, considering what had just passed. But Ford soon found out why. He opened the journal to the back page and flipped through the empty ones, counting. Then he closed it and looked up. Dipper was staring at him with a look of absolute horror. “Did?” He asked, then cleared his throat- Ford didn’t blame him. His voice was very squeaky. “Did you have time to read through my notes?” He asked all at once. 

“Notes?” Ford said smoothly. He’d been expecting this, after all. “No, I hadn’t noticed you’d made any.” 

“Oh.” Dipper said brightly, though some of his nerves were obviously still there. “Oh, I … I wrote some notes. Maybe you could review them?” 

/The ones about science and paranormal, I’m sure./ Ford mused. Then he remembered a few things Dipper had written on the subject. He had a few questions of his own, now! 

Ford wanted desperately to ask about category 10, but he didn’t. He’d tip his hand even by flipping directly to the page, and he really wanted Dipper to believe he hadn’t seen what the poor kid had written. He may not be able to read the room, usually, but even a social pariah like himself could see how clearly embarrassed Dipper was. “No time today. I have some things to attend to.” Ford finished off his cereal and then dumped the dish in the sink. Without any more conversation, he left the room. 

That had been like confronting a security robot! No! Worse! Worse by far! 

He couldn’t believe the adrenaline rushing through him now that he was out of it. Well.. no matter. It was finished and Dipper had nothing to worry about now. 

Ford spent the majority of the day trying to safely dismantle the portal. After some time, he looked at his watch. Oh wow. Yes. Some time, indeed. It was 8pm. He went upstairs to eat, then showered quickly. He even set a timer so he wouldn’t linger too long. He’d been up since five, so he didn’t think falling asleep would be a problem. 

But as soon as Ford laid down he was stiffer down below than he’d been since he was a teen. Was his mind already starting to associate this room with getting off? He’d only been here for a day! 

Still, he should treat himself to more pleasure now that the greatest dangers were more or less passed. He rubbed one out quickly, his mind resolutely focused away from Dipper. Which of course meant he was actually thinking of Dipper.

The memory of what he had written kept crawling into Ford’s mind, and every time he had to course correct, he was taken from the task at… ahem, at hand. 

And then he had to work his deflating cock harder to catch up. He didn’t manage to cum, but gave up in frustration after half a dozen attempts, which had all ended in “the Author touching Dipper.” 

He really needed to get some pornography. 

A few days passed like this. Ford would wake up, shower whilst fondling himself gently and trying to push his mind away from Dipper, go to the kitchen to eat (usually running into someone along the way: the occasion with Mabel was… memorable), and then go down and dismantle the portal some more. Then he would go back upstairs, shower again- he could get away with twice as a treat, and he ignored Stan whenever he complained of not enough hot water- and then lay in bed and once again try not to think of Dipper as he jacked off. 

He never made it to completion. No matter how hard he tried, Ford was so focused on training his mind not to respond sexually to his great nephew that orgasm was impossible. Every time he got close he would realize that he was daydreaming about some increasingly disturbing thing. 

Dipper blowing him! Wow! Was he this sick? 

But then he imagined it again- the kids’ mouth stuffed absolutely full with Ford’s cock- and almost came. He berated himself for half an hour after that, and then tried to sleep, but unsuccessfully. He stayed up for about two hours, then spent the night dreaming about fucking his own nephew and woke up having come in his pants. 

That day he finally swallowed his pride and went directly to Stan to ask point-blank for some magazines. Stan seemed… pleased. Of course he was. First of all, every encounter he’d had with Ford other than this had been tense and upsetting. They’d fall into old, smooth rhythms… joke, play, and then… something would come up. Some topic they couldn’t settle. Some void they couldn’t cross. 

It would devolve and they’d spend the next few days skirting around each other in Ford’s house. 

But then… Stan had always been proud about this before, when they were kids and Ford asked him to peek at his stollen dirty magazine stash. He’d take out his newest ones and set Ford alight touching him in ways a brother should never touch his sibling. Ford could never bring himself to care but… maybe that was why he was so fucked up now. 

Stan puffed out his chest proudly, gave him a stack of six different mags, and ushered Ford back to his room. 

But Ford found they didn’t help him much. Even when he was looking through them, he was instead thinking about doing terrible, terrible things. In fact, they compounded the problem. Now Dipper was posing between the pages in his mind’s eye, trying his best to tantalize “the Author” into touching him. 

If he’d thought the ones with men in them would help, he was dead wrong. Instead he found himself wondering if this was how Dipper had imagined him. Imagined the Author. 

More dreams about Dipper, too. 

Frustrated, but knowing that this had not been happening while he was actually reading what Dipper had written, he waited until Dipper and Mabel were out and Stan was giving a tour or something, then went into the attic. 

Of course he felt guilty. Of course. But this was the only course of action he could see that would allow him to regain his sanity. 

Searching Dipper’s things was easy. He found the pages in the box under the bed, which also had a bunch of pictures of a red-haired girl Stanford had seen at the front counter occasionally and who had greeted him as “Stan Two,” and some pictures of… him. Not super good ones. Just a few from angles which suggested Dipper was… hiding from view. 

Not encouraging. 

Ford took one of the middle pages and left. He didn’t want Dipper to know that someone had found his stash. Besides, Ford knew where the pages were now and everyone was busy or out of this house enough that he could come back and steal more whenever he wanted. If he wanted. Which he wouldn’t. Right? 

But he’d return this one eventually. 

Ford forced himself to leave it hidden in his room and go back downstairs, where he got some work done despite his erection. Only after 2am did he allow himself to leave the lab, secretly hoping his fatigue might keep him from doing something stupid. 

It didn’t. As soon as he closed the door, the page was in his hands. He sat by candlelight to read it. 

It began, of course, mid-sentence. 

-the Author’s hands, which trail down my naked body and back up. 

Ford shivered with pleasure. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. 

His strong hand rested eventually over the bulge in my pants and he rubbed firmly, making me toss my head back and moan. I knew I could make him squirm even more than he was now, though, if I just let loose a bit. 

/Yes… make him squirm…/ Ford thought eagerly. 

“Mmm… ah!” I grunted deliciously, and the Author readjusted himself in his pants. “Oh… that’s so good…” I continued. My praise elicited a fantastic reaction. 

“My god… my sweet, sweet apprentice….” 

Ford moaned. 

“Please… Author… Teacher….” I cracked an eyelid to watch him come undone, but the only thing that was being undone was my pants. Or perhaps not ‘undone.’ He was tearing them off like he would die if he didn’t see me, his calm facade vanishing under lust. When he bared my cock, he licked his lips. Without further preambled, his mouth was on me. 

/Fuck fuck yes… a little more/ Ford thought, turning the page to the other side to continue. 

He sucked me down in one blissful second, all the way to the hilt, making my back arch, worshiping my body with his beautiful hands. 

Ford increased his ministrations on his own dick. 

They slid up to my nipples and pinched me lightly there. My moan echoed through the lab as his wet mouth sucked me expertly. 

“Yes…” Ford moaned out loud. “Yes!” 

I felt my body contract, but I wasn’t ready to cum. “A- Author… there…” Was all the instruction he needed before his hand was removed from my peck and he was licking his finger. He placed it just at my entrance, swirling it a few times around my hole. 

Ford, still holding the page, bit down on his wrist as he came, trying to stifle the lewd noises pouring from his mouth. Moaning and whimpering and keening and grunting slowly subsided to nothing and Ford relaxed with a final sigh. Fuck, this kid knew how to write a fantasy. 

Ford glanced down at the paper in his hand. He only had a few more sentences. He read them. 

He teased my entrance with a finger and I felt a spasm jerk through me. He pushed at the little ring of muscles again and got a sensual moan in return. Oh how wonderful he was… and yet here he was showing ME how much he enjoyed my body. The teasing finger-

/No!/ Ford thought furiously. “Damn it.” He said aloud. The rest would be on the next page. He shouldn’t go get it for later. He shouldn’t. But he so wanted to. 

Ford let himself relax for now, even cleaned up a little and tucked himself away so he could sleep. 

His dreams were different that night. Instead of Dipper, it was his sweet Muse touching his body, whispering words of praise and encouragement. Brainiac… IQ… Smart Guy… begging Ford to touch him. There was no ill feeling in the dream. It was as if nothing had occurred between. Ford didn’t remember that Bill was horrible, a psychopath and a liar, until he awoke, leaking precum. 

He felt a little ill for having dreams like that about Bill, as he always did when his body and mind decided to do this. 

So Ford turned his mind to a different fantasy, and this time it worked with ease. He was on the bed, and the Author was touching him… sucking him. He came quickly to Dipper’s fantasy. It took him a whole two minutes of afterglow to realize that HE was the Author. Right. Obviously. 

But of course! The reason this didn’t make him fantasize about Dipper was because he was imagining himself as Dipper!

Well… that was okay, wasn’t it? 

Sure. 

And so at first it was innocent enough. These fantasies kept him from thinking about Dipper. They placed him in Dipper’s position and made him feel loved and praised. He stole more and more, slowly replacing the pages with the last one, until he’d read all of them. Then he started sneaking his favorite pages out one at a time, sometimes two at a time. At last he got the box out while everyone was out and he copied the whole thing for himself. 

In the midst of this, he realized the stack had grown. The last pages were different than the rest, as well. The ink and paper had both changed. A skim alone quickened his pulse. The words “Grunkle” “Great” “Uncle” and “Ford” all stood out to him. Dipper had written… more of these. He left those in the box without copying them and returned the lot, resolute not to read the new ones. 

…And that’s when he started to rationalize all of this.

He got to thinking how much he wanted to be Dipper’s age, young and helpless but… helpless? Really? He could get his Muse (no, the Author- not his Muse) to do anything he wanted to his body. And he was certainly confident enough to ask. His Muse (the Author!) would happily give him whatever he wanted, and praise him all the way through.

Then he got to thinking how lucky Dipper was to have such a fantastic concept of him. Dipper’s Author (Muse) was so supportive and kind and giving. He wasn’t a selfish lover or a manipulative abuser… he was the guy who came up to Dipper during an experiment and showered him with love and advice and praise. 

And THEN he got to thinking about how it would feel to be the man for Dipper. A guiding hand that well.. in the bedroom, wouldn’t mind being guided BY Dipper. Wouldn’t mind doing as Dipper wanted. He’d always liked to take orders in bed, after all, and if Dipper wanted to give them….

And finally he got to thinking… does Dipper think the same thoughts about me now? I wonder how his opinions have changed and grown with who I am. 

And at last… he took the pages.

They were much the same as the Author’s. “Grunkle Ford praises me.” “Great Uncle Ford touches me just the way I like and just the way I tell him to.” “Ford is the Author and he is just as kind and loving as he’s always been.” 

So flattering. So… sensual! And it was what Ford would have wanted, if he were Dipper. In fact, Ford had let someone many years his senior touch him much like this. And wouldn’t it be better if it were Ford than some school teacher who found out about Dipper’s crush and wanted to take advantage of him? Wouldn’t it better be the Author, and not a false god? A… a false Muse? 

Bill had hurt him so much- violated his consent and his boundaries and his deal with Ford. Lied to him. Tortured him. Hunted him. 

And now look at him. 

But if Dipper had a guiding hand… something more real, more honest? Then if Dipper showed signs of falling for the wrong type, Ford would be in a position to squash the crush and give him something more fulfilling and sweeter to the taste.

Sure, Dipper was young, but he was also mature and talented. Their D, D, and MD games had shown that he had advanced strategy, and the journal entries Ford had asked him to draw up displayed a sexual maturity that Ford certainly hadn’t had at that age. Besides, category 10 ghosts… (He’d finally gotten that story). Dipper could handle Ford. Dipper could handle nearly anything. 

Of course, Dipper was many years Ford’s junior, but again, he was mature, and he certainly knew what he wanted. He would be bored by his peers and it would be easy for beings (-his Muse-) to take advantage of Dipper because of that boredom. It had happened to Ford, after all. He’d need a guiding hand. And Ford would be gentle and slow, of course. 

And yes, Dipper was his great-nephew, but why should that matter? After all, familial bonds should be strong. Many cultures across the world had different definitions for what constituted a taboo in terms of incestuous relationships… And Dipper wouldn’t be able to bond with just anyone this way, after all. Ford hadn’t been able to. His only really fulfilling relationship had, after all, been incestuous. 

Now that Ford thought about it… it made perfect sense, right? He was still mulling it over when he went to the kitchen for breakfast one morning. He had a big day ahead.  
When Ford walked past the living room, Dipper was already there, sitting in Stan’s chair reading Ford’s latest updates to the third Journal. 

“Dipper, my boy, you’re already up!” Ford greeted him cheerfully. Dipper looked up at him with his own bright smile. 

“Morning, Grunkle Ford!” Dipper stood, putting the journal on the side of the table. “How about we finish up that room?” Dipper had been helping him get rid of those terrible statues and paintings of a false god on the second floor.

“Dipper… there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Ford interjected, suddenly making up his mind. Dipper frowned seriously, but said nothing. “But first… where’s Stan?” 

He was sure that Stan wouldn’t understand all this, even if he explained it all properly and showed Stan what Dipper had written. After all, Stan had had the journal for a while and surely he’d already read what Dipper had written? Glanced at it, perhaps? He hadn’t mentioned it to Ford, so maybe he was too embarrassed to do so, but he was sure that Stan had been… somewhat… uncomfortable with them. 

“Stan? I don’t know. Shack’s closed today so I guess he went out.” Dipper went to the door to look outside. “His car isn’t here.” 

“Very well.” Ford said, making his final decision on the spot. He picked up his journal and motioned for Dipper to follow him, which he did. 

“What’s this about, Grunkle Ford?” 

“Well… it’s about… not keeping secrets, Dipper.” Ford said. Dipper entered the room ahead of him at Ford’s gesture and Ford closed and locked the door. He noticed Dipper looking at it. “Here, sit with me.” Ford said. They parked themselves on the couch. 

“So this about a secret you’ve been keeping?” Dipper asked. 

“No, no… well. Hm. Perhaps the both of us have been keeping secrets.” Ford said quite dramatically. He opened his journal. “Dipper, where did these pages go?” He asked.

Dipper looked down and his eyes blew up. “I… what?”

“This was the last journal entry before I disappeared.” Ford said, pointing. “The other pages were removed by me. However… there are six pages here that were not. Where are they?” 

“Are? Are you sure there were six?” 

“Yes. I counted them the day we were first in the kitchen. Remember? I noticed then that some were missing.” 

“I… I don’t know… maybe Mabel tore them out for a craft?” 

“Heh. That was a good lie! Stanley’s teaching you something after all!” Ford said. 

“Wha? It’s not a lie…” Dipper replied nervously. He went to stand up, scratching his head in a way reminiscent of Stan, but Ford took him by the hand and forced him back down. “Grunkle Ford!” Dipper cried out, and Ford took both of his hands in his own bigger ones, enveloping Dipper’s completely. 

“Dipper… don’t worry. I’ve read your additions and they were most excellent.” 

“You- really?” Dipper asked excitedly. Then, “Wait…” A suspicious, anxious look. “Which additions?” 

“All of them. Including these.” Ford reached under the couch cushion below him and extracted his copies. “I copied these passages for my own use. The new ones are even better than the first set!” 

Dipper looked about to faint. 

“Steady, now.” Ford said when he swayed on the spot. He put one hand on Dipper’s left ear, stoking him a little, to help him stay upright. Dipper froze. “I liked the fantasies, Dipper. You’re an excellent writer. Amazing, even! It’s been ages since I came so hard.” Dipper blushed hard and Ford took his hand back.

Dipper wasn’t responding the way Ford had expected. He wanted Dipper to take control and tell Ford what to do to his body. Well… perhaps he wouldn’t react exactly as he did in fantasies. Ford chanced a glance downward and saw that Dipper was definitely feeling randy, though. He decided to continue. 

“If you’d like,” Ford said, turning off the light so that the only source was the window. It wasn’t dark, but it was fine for his purposes. “I can help you reenact them.” Ford ran a hand through Dipper’s hair, pulling off his hat. Dipper clearly hadn’t washed it in a few days. “This is a mess.” Ford said nonchalantly. 

For some reason, that seemed to push Dipper out of whatever trance he was clearly in. He stood up, grabbed his hat back, ran top speed to the door, unlocked it, and ran out. Ford sat with his hand still in the air around Dipper’s height, wondering what had just occurred. 

Apparently, he’d freaked Dipper out. But how? Hadn’t Dipper made it quite clear that he’d very much like to…? Ugh! Ford, you fool! A fantasy wasn’t the same thing, was it? He’d gone to take advantage of Dipper just as Bil- 

Ford shook his head. Then he stood and went down to his lab, thinking all the way that he really ought to burn those pages. And apologize to Dipper! Damn his total lack of social ability! How could he have done this? 

He was only in the lab for about twenty minutes, not really concentrating (in favor of berating himself for his terrible come-on) when Dipper arrived downstairs. Ford turned in his chair to look at him and Dipper cleared his throat, then waved a little. 

“Dipper!” Ford said in surprise. “Dipper, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, no! No, it’s…” Dipper said quickly, cutting him off.  
His voice had cracked. But that was normal for him. Right? “It’s fine.” Dipper said more clearly. 

They both stared for a moment, then Ford turned to go back to his work. “Now that the shack is protected, Dipper, we should probably-”

“Wha? Wait…” 

Ford turned and looked at him again, and Dipper kind of shifted his feet. “What is it?” Ford asked. 

“I thought… I mean… weren’t you…” Dipper stammered. 

Then, at the same time as Ford said, “It seemed you wanted to move on.” Dipper said something, and Ford had to backtrack. “Sorry, what?” 

“Weren’t you saying something? Before?” Dipper asked, glancing down at his own feet.

“I thought I made you uncomfortable.” Ford said, then cleared his throat. 

“No, no!” Dipper said frantically. 

“Well I… are you sure?” Ford asked. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. 

“Yeah. Yeah… I just… wanted to…” Dipper shifted, cleared his own throat, and then nearly mumbled “take a shower?” It sounded like a question. 

Ford had always been terrible at this sort of thing. He resorted to his previous tactic of looking down at Dipper’s pants to judge his mood. Hardly a perfect way to determine interest, but it was all he had. Yes, Dipper was bulging. Hmmm. “Take a shower?” He inquired. 

“Yeah… I… I don’t … every day… so….” 

Something clicked. Dipper had realized his bodily state and decided to shower and change clothes before he let Ford… “Oh! I see! I thought I scared you half to death!” 

“No, no!” Dipper said again. 

Ford chuckled. Then he looked around the lab quickly. “Hmmm… perhaps back to my room?”

“Yeah!” Dipper said excitedly, then, “Yeah, yeah.” Much more calmly. 

They went to the elevator and got inside. On the long way up, Dipper was fidgeting, but Ford was ignorant of his discomfort. He felt as if he’d won some sort of prize. Dipper didn’t hate him? How wonderful. 

They arrived at the top and walked up the stairs, Dipper trailing behind Ford. “So you…” Dipper said as they went through the house, breaking his own uncomfortable silence. 

“Yes?” Ford prompted. 

“You liked my… my stories?” He asked. 

“Yes, I enjoy them immensely. Nightly, in fact.” Ford said. 

Dipper blushed the deepest red and felt a stirring of excitement and need inside of him that usually led to him fantasizing about the Author, or writing these stories down. The feeling always ended the same, though: with Dipper frantically rubbing himself until he got that thirty seconds of pure bliss against a pillow. 

As he sat nervously on Grunkle Ford’s couch, he couldn’t help but think about his great uncle doing the same thing right here every night. To his stories. Dipper smiled nervously. 

“Now when I was your age,” Ford said, locking the door, “I could ejaculate in about twenty seconds with a partner. Let’s take this slowly.” 

Dipper’s mouth ran totally dry. Ford was so experienced! What was Dipper going to do to please him? 

Of course Dipper had watched porn before, and he’d written a lot of it. A LOT of it. People online were starting to say that he was getting good at it… were sharing his stories. Not the ones about the Author- er, Ford. Other ones, about fantasy worlds and stuff. Stuff from books. But Dipper had never even kissed anyone before! 

(No, not even Mermando). 

Ford sat down opposite of him. “You can lead if you’d like.” He offered, and Dipper shook his head slowly. His heart was beating like a drum. “Very well.” Ford said more seriously, and Dipper felt like he’d failed some sort of test. 

Ford removed Dipper’s hat, though, and threaded his fingers through Dipper’s slightly damp hair, saying “Ah, yes. That is better.” Dipper’s brain short-circuited. It felt so good! So good! And Ford wasn’t even really touching him yet.

Ford ran his hand down Dipper’s neck and felt him shiver. “Are you cold?” Dipper had enough brain cells left to shake his head. “Oh! Ohhhh.” Ford said, understanding. “Does that feel good?” Dipper nodded, his eyes shut tight. “Take control whenever you like.” Ford offered again, but he continued in his ministrations. 

He stripped Dipper of his vest and Dipper moaned. Ford leaned in and pushed Dipper back against the arm of the couch so he could lap at his neck like a dog. Dipper moaned again and squirmed. Ford kissed gently down, down… raising Dipper’s shirt at the same time. When he reached a the nipple, Dipper literally screamed. 

“Are you alright?” Ford asked, and Dipper only panted in return for a little while, then nodded. “Yes, yes… I remember when St- when I first had this done.” Ford said, his voice muffled as he took off his sweater and tossed it aside. “It was… intoxicating. S- my partner had to shove a pillow in my mouth every night for months.” 

Without waiting for Dipper’s response, Ford went back to sucking the nipple, this time making it as wet and sloppy as he possibly could as Dipper thrashed around below him, clearly smothered with endorphins. After about a minute, Ford paid equal attention to the other nib. Dipper reached his hands down to touch himself, but Ford guided them kindly back up and pinned him there gently. “I’d rather do that myself. Let’s take our time.” Ford reminded him. 

He started leaving kisses down Dipper’s stomach, then abruptly remembered that he’d promised himself to give Dipper plenty of praise while he was doing this. “You’re taking this very well.” He breathed against Dipper’s sensitive skin. “I want to enjoy you, Dipper… body, mind… you’re so intelligent, so strong in heart….” 

Getting to this point, Ford thought briefly that he was just rambling now, unsure how to best flatter Dipper. But Dipper suddenly gave a piercing, needy, almost-shriek at Ford’s next kiss. He wasn’t even near anything sensitive on Dipper’s body… Had his words alone been good enough? He kissed again to see if Dipper would make that disgustingly sensual sound again, but he didn’t. Ford continued. 

“I’ve never met anyone so talented at such a young age. Why, I could teach you almost anything and-”

Oh, that was definitely doing it. Dipper was now trembling like a leaf and fighting to get more friction. His ass was grinding into the sheets and he wasn’t even undressed yet- 

/Oh/ Ford thought. /He’s clearly trying to get off in his pants/ Which of course sent Ford reeling. He let go of Dipper to undo his own belt as blood rushed from his head. He looked back at Dipper and immediately had to catch Dipper’s hands in his own again to prevent his great-nephew from touching himself. 

“You’re doing very well, Dipper.” He praised. “But why don’t you touch me instead of yourself?” 

Dipper’s eyes opened and he looked at Ford in wonder. “Uhhh… re- really?” He asked. 

“Of course. It takes two to tango, so to speak.” Ford said brightly. He looked down when Dipper’s hands moved, and wondered why they were moving so, so slowly. Then they touched Ford’s chest. 

Perhaps some encouragement? 

He shouldn’t be so still, right? “You can move.” Ford said. 

“I … can I?” Dipper asked, but Ford just gave him a strange look. Then Dipper leaned up and kissed Ford. Oh. Naturally, That. That should have been his starting point. He kissed Dipper back. 

It was sloppy. Dipper was so small and inexperienced that it was difficult for Ford to give him anything without making a mess. But Dipper seemed to be enjoying it. He was rutting against Ford as much as he could and Ford had to hold his hips down with one hand to stop him from cumming. 

Finally Ford broke the kiss. Dipper immediately sat up to reach Ford’s nipple and he latched on and sucked there like an infant. Ford involuntarily tossed his head back, a deep moan rising from within him. Ford barely felt the slow spread of Dipper’s smile over his skin, but he was sure nonetheless that he was grinning. Perhaps this victory would encourage him to take charge at last? 

Then Dipper raised one hand and fondled the other side of his chest and Ford (the Author!) went straight for his own pants, trying to undress himself more thoroughly as Dipper worked on him.  
He had to let go as Ford removed the rest of his clothing, but that was fine for Dipper, because as soon as his hands weren’t occupied with his pants, twelve fingers were all over Dipper. They pushed him down and pulled the vest off over his back, trapping his arms. Then Ford (the Author!) leaned down to kiss him on the lips again. Dipper tried to follow his lead, but it was just as messy as before.

Dipper struggled, trying to get out of his cloth prison, but Ford sat up and took off his own underwear, saying, “Slowly, Dipper. Let’s go slowly.” 

Dipper’s mind was gone, though. He was looking at Ford’s (the Author’s!) cock and everything had stopped working except his own straining member. He froze, his eyes went wide, his mind blank, and his body rigid. Ford didn’t seem to notice nor mind his sudden compliance, though. He simply sat Dipper up and lifted his shirt again to taste his stomach by lathering his wet tongue all over Dipper’s skin. Goosebumps raised up all along Dipper’s body and he threw his head back in bliss. 

The Author! The Author! The Author! 

This was heaven!

Dipper found himself struggling again as Ford slowly moved around his body. He started by going up Dipper’s chest with kisses, then he paused, went a few inches over his clothes and sucked a hickey onto Dipper’s neck as he thrashed and moaned with pleasure. Then Dipper felt a thick pair of fingers hook into his pants and pull them down just slightly. He looked down and received another burst of brainlessness when Ford quickly and skilfully nipped along his pelvic bone. 

Honestly… Ford had rarely had sex with humans. He was pretty much doing the same things that Bill or Stanley had done to him to drive Ford wild, but in a different order, and slightly more gently than what Bill had done.

Obviously, Bill wouldn’t have wanted to tip his hand by being as brutal as he had craved, but the kind of rough that he’d downgraded to would have probably still been too much for Dipper. Ford had to remind himself again and again that Dipper was small and fragile and he needed to make… adjustments. 

At last, Ford had tasted his fill of what he could reach, though. He hooked two fingers on each side of Dipper’s shorts and underwear and pulled the lot of them down. 

Why even Ford could take that in his mouth completely without even gagging. It would be child’s play! Well… if children typically played this way, in any case. 

Dipper blushed and struggled, much like Ford had when Bill had first exposed him so completely, so Ford gave him exactly what Bill had given and a little more. 

First, the more. “It’s alright, it’s alright… do you want me to stop?” 

Dipper had options. Ford wouldn’t take him against his will, or even if he just wasn’t ready yet. He’d wait patiently. 

Dipper paused and Ford could see an inner battle raging. “Not… stop.” He nearly whined. 

“I could hardly go any further without exposing you and… I’m also exposed.” Yes, Bill had always been dressed, so to speak. He never showed Ford more than what he had wanted, and that dapper hat and bowtie were ever present. Ford would be the first, always, to show Dipper his body.

Dipper contemplated this and, just as Ford suspected he would, saw the wisdom there. “Yeah… yeah, okay.” 

There, see? He was much kinder than his Muse. Much better. Much more moral. He had Dipper’s consent. Now time for what Bill had been willing to do: praise. 

“Dipper,” Ford said in his lowest, throatiest voice, kissing a path starting from Dipper’s ankles and going up, “You,” kiss “set me,” kiss, “on fire… you… are… the most… intelligent… person… I’ve met… in a long time.” A little nip there, just to make Dipper squirm a bit- not in the way that his Mu- Bill would have wanted, mind… Dipper should enjoy himself. 

(Oh you had enjoyed yourself, Fordsie. You had enjoyed me thoroughly). 

He pushed that thought away and continued to kiss Dipper up the thigh. “You.. could be… something… great…. Dipper.” Ford paused again, this time getting himself ready to take the leap, and to make Dipper love it even more than Ford would. “My apprentice.” He said sweetly, and, before Dipper could more than just open his eyes at this revelation, Ford swallowed him down. 

Dipper’s back arched and Ford did not relent. Dipper screamed as well, but Ford knew that he was enjoying this. He had to hold down Dipper’s hips once more as he sucked hard and fast, slurping and letting his tongue wiggle freely in his mouth. He didn’t pump at all- just let Dipper sit inside his mouth with the continuous suction for about a minute and then-

Dipper buried both hands into Ford’s poof and screamed his throat raw with pleasure, his whole body given over to convulsing with it. Ford felt truly honoured to witness this side of him. Dipper hadn’t taken control at all, but had given himself so entirely to Ford. What a pleasure. What flattery! 

(This must have been how his Mu- no, Bill, felt when-)

Ford slowly backed off of Dipper’s cock, swallowing as he went, so Dipper’s ejaculate didn’t drip anywhere. Then he licked his lips and looked Dipper over. 

He was covered in sweat and absolutely wrecked. Ford chuckled slightly and took some time to dress Dipper, who was clearly beyond this world for now. 

(His M- Bill- would have-)

But Ford wasn’t like Bill at all. He would wait for Dipper to awake and they could talk, and Ford wouldn’t use his body at all in the meantime. He’d go take a shower and jerk off there, then be back in time to care for his apprentice. Dipper would be- well, not his equal exactly, not yet- but something prided and held aloft. Not a puppet or a toy for Ford to enjoy. 

Ford covered Dipper and went to take a shower. 

The water was only lukewarm, but Ford rushed himself over the edge, thinking of the sounds Dipper had been making. He wanted to be there when Dipper woke up, so as soon as he was done he returned to his room and sat writing some of his fantasies down in a new notebook he’d bought, thinking he and Dipper could pass it between them, leaving each other delicious, sensual little notes and stories between the pages. 

It was a few hours before Dipper really started to stir, and Ford was a little hard again by then. But no. If Dipper woke up, they would talk first. He’d give him some time. Then get his consent and Dipper could finish him up, if he could even come right now. He wasn’t sure if his aged body would allow it. 

“Well good morning.” Ford said. “Actually, it’s not even evening yet.” 

Dipper stirred, sat up, and then blushed. “Gr- grunkle Ford!” He said. 

“Yes?” 

“Are- are Stan and Mabel…?” 

“No, they aren’t back yet.” Ford told him. 

That seemed to make Dipper relax a bit, but now he seemed even more embarrassed. “It’s evening?” He slapped a palm to his face. 

“Dipper, it’s no matter. I feel you haven’t adequately slept and, speaking candidly, your orgasm was such that it’s unsurprising for you to pass out for a few hours. I was expecting this.” Ford said. 

Dipper blushed even harder at that, but then he looked down and saw that he was dressed. He sat up again and Ford offered him a Pitt. “To fantasy!” Ford said, “And a partnership, I hope.” 

They drank together on the couch for a moment, and Dipper found he could meet Ford’s gaze after a while. “You… you really mean it about training me?” 

“Oh, yes. I’m impressed with more than just your sexual additions, Dipper.” 

Dipper’s face lit up. Now that’s what Ford liked to see. 

“You’re talented, Dipper. Bold.” 

He blushed. 

“You’re cute, too.” This time Ford blushed. He didn’t really know a way to be, other than blunt, and growing up with Stanley hadn’t helped his cause. 

Dipper sort of coughed into his hand, and said in a high voice, “Thanks.” Apparently frankness was tolerated by him, perhaps even appreciated. “But uh… but what about school?” 

“Dipper, I have twelve PhDs. I think your parents will be thrilled that I can offer you such a complete education.” 

“That’s- really? That’s amazing! This is all I could have hoped for!” 

“Wonderful! Let’s call your parents tonight and seal the-” (It’s a DEAL, Sixer!) “that is, let’s negotiate terms.” 

Dipper didn’t seem to notice his change of pace. “Okay, but…” He bit his lip. “Let’s not… mention this, okay?” 

“Oh. Yes, of course, Dipper. This one is our secret.” 

(Call it our SECRET, huh, SMART guy?)

“No one would believe-” Ford continued. 

(Careful, Sixer… I don’t think most people would believe you’d actually SEEN me!) 

“Well… I mean that… they wouldn’t understand…” 

(It’s INCOMPREHENSIBLE to most humans- A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS ONE. But you’re not like MOST HUMANS, are YA?) 

“Right!” Dipper agreed, saving Ford the further self-scrutiny. 

Still, he felt compelled to explain to Dipper the seriousness of the situation. “Even your sister couldn’t really be trusted… to…” 

(Are you SURE Fids can be TRUSTED, IQ? After all… I chose YOU for a reason.)

“I know, I know, it’s okay.” Dipper assured him. “I’m not… gonna tell Mabel.” He mumbled. “For sure not Mabel. Not… not anyone.” 

“I’m not… trying to take advantage of you.” Ford said lamely, the words falling flat even to him. But Dipper seemed to disagree.

“I know!” He said quickly. 

“If you’re uncomfortable…” 

“Nope- that’s why I, uh…” Dipper gave a short, mirthless and nervous laugh, “That’s why I don’t want to tell anyone.” 

“Right.” Ford said. 

“Right.” Dipper repeated. 

Something tasted wrong about this. 

“Oh!” Dipper said suddenly, and Ford nearly started. “Oh, man! You didn’t even… I didn’t even… sorry.” He gestured vaguely to Ford. 

“Oh, no. I’m fine, Dipper.” Ford said. He felt suddenly… unsure about this whole idea. 

“You… you sure? I’m kinda… kinda curious? So…” Dipper shifted in his seat. “Plus I want…maybe.” 

Ford let a slow smile spread across his lips. Oh, how could he ever think he was anything like Bill with how eager Dipper was? 

(Oh you were VERY eager).

He would never hurt Dipper (right?) or force himself on him (right?) or betray him (right?)

“You… if you’d like.” Ford said. 

“Take… take off your- ehem.” …Third time's a charm, Dipper… “Take off your clothes.” Still barely more than a whisper, but Dipper felt a rush of excitement and confidence when Ford looked at him with a beaming smile. Dipper blushed something fierce when Ford slid to the ground and made a show of undressing before Dipper, looking humble but sensual. He might as well have called Dipper master and been done with it. Dipper cleared his throat and stood up.

“Get on the couch. Lay- lay down.” He said with a little more confidence than he felt. 

Ford again obeyed without question, his eyes proud. “You’re good at this.” Ford said, and Dipper felt a surge of ego so strong it made the next command easy. 

“Well… well, you’re more experienced so… you should guide my hands.” He suggested, but his words weren’t weak anymore. 

“Yes, of course. Anything you need, Dipper.” Ford told him. 

Dipper’s knees didn’t even shake as he got on top of Ford, just like page five of his fantasies, and spread his legs over each side of him, just under his penis. Ford took both of Dipper’s hands in his and very, very gently led him down to touch Ford’s now straining cock. He guided his hands over the slick part and then down, spreading precum. Dipper let go. 

“Is this… is this alright?” Ford asked, but Dipper was spitting in his hands. Then he replaced them, a little flushed. “Oh, yes. Excellent idea.” Ford chuckled. 

Ford guided Dipper up and down a few times, then Dipper said, “Okay, I got it.” Ford let go. Dipper pumped him a twice, then went over the top, parodying what Ford had already taught him. Ford relaxed into the couch. 

“Oh…. Dipper… that’s so… you’re so talented… oh, yes… it’s good,” Ford kept up a steady stream of praises, his eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling, not building to anything. 

Then Dipper said, “Touch me.” 

Ford gasped with need. He placed one arm under Dipper’s moving ones and reached down to stoke Dipper, who followed with his own gasp. 

“Take- take it out…” Dipper said, his voice faltering with pleasure, but not lack of confidence. 

“Yes… command me…” Ford whispered, and got a lovely little squeeze in return. Ford reached into Dipper’s shorts and pulled out his cock, which was hard. 

“Uh…. ah! Make me come!” Dipper yelled suddenly, and Ford’s hips sputtered forwards. 

“May I come, Dipper? May I?” Ford begged. Dipper nodded, beyond doing much else, and Ford let go of him to place one of Dipper’s hands on his own cock, and one on Dipper’s. He covered each hand with one of his own and began to pump, just the right speed, just the right…. yes! Dipper came all over their hands with a shout. Ford let go of his cock and guided Dipper’s hand to fondle Ford’s balls. The combined pressure, the tiny hands (so much like Bill’s) made him ache until he spilled over them, moaning like a bull throughout. 

There was a good half a minute of bliss, then Ford opened his eyes and saw that Dipper was swaying gently on top of him, clearly so high that he couldn’t respond, but awake this time. This was evidenced a moment later, when Dipper’s eyes flew open and he said, “I gotta-!” He scrambled off of Ford and rushed into the bathroom, where Ford immediately heard him piss into the toilet. Ford chuckled, then sighed contentedly. 

/Kid is a quick learner./ Ford thought disjointedly. He was so sated and relaxed, he almost dozed off before he felt the gentle weight of Dipper crawling on top of him again and settling this time between Ford and the back of the couch. “Stan will be back soon, surely.” Ford observed. 

“Yeah…” Dipper said, crestfallen. 

“This room smells of release. Let’s be found by your sister in the laboratory, perhaps.” 

“S- sure.” Dipper said. Ford helped him get out of his position and took a detour to the bathroom so he could also piss. Then he washed and put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, going down to one knee. 

“But first! Let’s see about calling your parents, shall we?” 

Dipper’s face colored, but he smiled, clearly pleased. “Yeah! Wow, I can’t wait to tell Mabel all about this!” He rushed from the room, backtracked, said, “The apprenticeship. I mean the apprenticeship!” Then he dashed away again.

Ford sighed. Maybe he better warn Dipper about the possibility of Mabel taking this badly… but he wasn’t sure that Dipper would believe him, at least not right away. Well, it was fine, for now- He wouldn’t need Mabel as much if Ford was guiding him. Dipper would have him, right?

(You’ve always got ME, right, Brainiac?) 

…. 

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey peeps, I gotta admit, I really need reviews. Not because I'm like "I won't post without them!" But I actually, truly, will give up thinking that no one cares if I post or not. Most days I can keep going knowing that reviews don't define my work. But some days... not so much. 
> 
> I take constructive criticisms, too. I want to be a better writer. Examples include incorrect chracterization, leaving editing notes in the document (oops, I do this!), or if you think a phrase or word would perhaps better express what I’m trying to get across. 
> 
> If you liked this, or if you think I could do better and you specifically know how, please let me know in a review. 
> 
> If you want to follow me on tumblr or join my problematic GF discord server, here’s how! ProblematicGF!.  
> I also take prompts via ask box (though no guarantee I’ll fill them or when). Please read my FAQ before sending prompts, though.
> 
> Do not repost or copy any part of this fanfiction to other sites!


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